Last night I came home from a moderately rainy Farmers' Market with 16 ears of free sweet corn. Driving down the hill in truly blustery weather I thought to myself "Ribs would really be good with corn, too bad it is so late."
Walking in the door, I find my Matthew preparing BBQ sauce and boiling ribs from Painted Hill Farm that I had bought a few weeks prior. I squeal, get leered at over this out burst and set about shucking corn.
We grilled the corn under the broiler and ate off of one plate because everything else is packed or moved or somewhere in between. Huddled over that plate with sticky fingers and sweet corn stuck between our teeth was, well, delightful.